


can't you stay where you are, just for now? i could be your perfect disaster.

by adlibsinfalsetto



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, and ashton's 18, dont worry it ends happy, for the sake of this fic luke is 17, high school!au, luke's in high school and ashton's about to leave for college, luke's not handling ashton leaving correctly, sort of, which leads to a bit of a blow out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adlibsinfalsetto/pseuds/adlibsinfalsetto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke’s the first to blow.</p><p>Ashton really should have expected it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't you stay where you are, just for now? i could be your perfect disaster.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!
> 
> this is actually a prompt fill but it turned into a 2k fic???? this is probably my longest to date and so it's probably a little all over the place because i'm not used to writing this much YIKES 
> 
> anyway i had fun writing it so i'm going to post it (-:

Luke’s the first to blow.

Ashton really should have expected it.

He’s careless, mumbling something along the lines of “i’m going to miss you” while Luke’s in the middle of a tirade about his infuriation with Calum after their game of FIFA. He doesn’t think Luke will pick up on the nearly inaudible sentiment but, of course, he does and the rest is a slippery slope – all gritted teeth and backhanded comments.

The subdued resentment toward Ashton had become a regularity now that he held both a diploma and an acceptance letter whereas Luke was left empty-handed. It’s not that he doesn’t understand the rationale behind Luke’s anger because Uni was over 500 miles away and Luke still had to finish school in Sydney which meant little time for the two to be together. In short, it sucked. Really fucking sucked, actually. Spending what scant time they had together bickering, however, was worse. It’s more from Luke’s end, not that he’s pinning the blame on him or anything, but he is the one who bristles every time the dreaded ‘u’ word appears in conversation. But once again, Ashton doesn’t blame him because he knows that Luke’s truly not angry with him for leaving — he’s just scared. The elder can see it when his fists ball and his voice raises, when his words turn acerbic and unshed tears cloud his crystalline eyes. And every time it feels like a goddamn tragedy because Ashton’s so devastatingly in love with this boy who looks at him like the sun but is too afraid to be left alone in the dark. 

They’re in the parking lot now; lethal silencing lingering above them, waiting for someone to pull the trigger. Luke’s already in the car by the time he reaches the passenger side but just as he tugs the handle --- Luke’s clambering back out; this time with a familiar huff of vexation that could only mean one thing:

The Jeep is the second to blow. 

Ashton really should have expected that, too. 

“Oh, come on, I just replaced the battery. ” He hears Luke whine, his forehead knocking against the front of the, now raised, hood. Under less acrimonious circumstances, Ashton might have laughed ---- nevertheless, he opens the passenger side and grabs for the flashlight tucked in the door pocket as he’s done far too many times before. 

The thing about the Jeep is that it’s very...inconsistent. Some weeks it’ll run fine; Luke even lets him drive it on those days if he’s confident it won’t hit a snag but there’s also the bad weeks. The most prominent memory of one of those so-called “bad weeks” was on the way back from a weekend camping trip in which the car died in the middle of some backcountry road that would not bring them to civilization for another two hours. (Did he enjoy the apology blowjob he received in the truckstop bathroom? Yes. Did he enjoy hitchhiking? No.) That was about the time his infatuation with the vehicle began to dwindle. Luke loved the damned thing, though so by default --- he had to.

Ashton hands the light to him wordlessly, side-stepping to ensure he wasn’t obstructing Luke’s view as he searched for the source of the malfunction. To be completely honest, Ashton didn’t know shit about cars; he let Luke handle that department but the abundance of duct tape currently decorating the interior of the Jeep was alarming. 

“Maybe it’s all the duct tape.”

“------If you say one more thing about the duct tape, I’ll punch you.”

The remark elicits a sardonic chuckle --- all breath and bitterness because Luke wouldn’t. He’s far too passive aggressive to even think about raising a fist to him and you know, maybe that was the problem. Maybe Luke needed to swing at him a few times, throw out his inhibitions and solve it the old fashioned way with bruised knuckles and split lips. Maybe then he would stop being so spiteful toward Ashton for something he couldn’t fucking control. 

“Hit me.”

"What?"

_"Hit me."_

His voice resounds in the stillness, his mouth continuing to move because he thinks the quiet would turn his throat into a graveyard full of dead words if it didn’t .

"You won't, though. That's the thing, Luke. You never do anything. All you do is pout and be pissy and expect people to just give in and fix whatever’s wrong because we all just revolve around you, don't we? Princess Luke has to get his way or the world will go to shit, that sound about right?"

_"Ashton."_

He's heard his name mumbled into warm skin, entwined in laughter, in blissful sighs and quieted moans but never in a manner that leaves him feeling disgusted. Ashton flinches as if he’s finally been struck but the only blow that lands comes from within; self-loathing knots his stomach, the phantom hands of guilt seizing his throat. He hurt Luke. Out of all the people in the world, he chose the boy with hurricanes for eyes and sugar for a smile. He was officially the worst. 

Or was he? No doubt he feels guilty about snapping at his boyfriend but it wasn’t as if he went unprovoked. Luke had been callous toward him for weeks for probably the worst reason anyone in the history of anywhere had ever come up with and once again, he knows --- he knows, okay -- that there’s an implicit reason for his anomalous shortness but Ashton’s only human. He had a breaking point. 

 

A thought strikes him in the heat of the moment: what if they needed to break? He’s fairly certain there’s an ancient proverb saying something about breaking down to rebuild and well, it’s not the worst idea --- he’s begun the process of ruination, anyhow. 

So, Ashton poses the question, ambiguous and daunting, as he finally summons the strength to look in Luke’s eyes ----

“What are you so afraid of?”

The silence turns deadly again, sending a quick shiver down his spine. An unintelligent comment brushes the backs of his lips just as the Walls of Jericho come tumbling down. 

Luke’s quick, closing the short gap between them with two steps forward and one swing. He lacks aim, fist powered by sheer recklessness alone but he lands the hit --- knuckles striking just along the edge of Ashton’s chin. A dull ache blossoms yet it’s nothing compared to the asphyxiating anguish he feels when he looks back at Luke.

He’s always said Luke’s like his personal storm; bright as lightning and lively as thunder. All he sees before him is devastation manifested in white knuckles and shallow breaths. He fucked up. If Luke’s actually hitting him then he’s fucked up and goddamn, if he wasn’t the worst person alive before ---- he is now. A thousand and one reparations race toward paralyzed lips but the blonde speaks before he gets a chance. 

“I hate you.”

I know. I hate me too. Fuck, I hate me. You’re the only reason I like me. 

“No, you don’t.”

He should. 

“I should. Would make this a hell of a lot easier. ”

“Is that what you’re trying to do? Make me hate you?”

He wanted Ashton to hate him so it’d lessen the blow when left. Ashton supposed the self-fulfilling prophecy made sense in a very Luke sort of way. Problem with that logic was Ashton could never hate him. He was too tragically, stupidly, inconceivably in love with him to even consider the thought. If he was better with words, if he kissed him longer, if he held him tighter, if he said ‘I love you’ more often, would Luke understand? Would he understand that this is just as hard for him? He doesn’t want to leave. God, he doesn’t want to leave this godforsaken town because the streetlights scream home and he knows home is wherever Luke is. He’s already so fucking homesick. The elder’s lips roll into a flatline, head tilting toward the starless night above them like he’s looking for divine intervention before caustic laughter rattles his chest. 

 

“Luke, I can’t hate you. It’s physically impossible for me to hate you. So, I hate to put a damper on this self-fulfilling prophecy of yours but you’re not getting rid of me that easy. And look, I get it, okay? You’re scared. You’re scared that I’m not just leaving here, that I’m leaving you too and I’m not. I told you since the day I got that stupid fucking letter that distance, people, whatever it is that has you so freaked is not going to change us and I meant it.” 

Ashton had never been one for speeches whereas Luke could articulate his feelings with vibrant language and revealing metaphors and he thinks that’s exactly why Luke’s going to end up as the English major while he’s living his dreams in music and that’s fine. That is exactly what he wants. He wants late nights with Luke furiously typing at a computer (as he already so often does) and early mornings with coffee and sleep-deprived kisses and an apartment that isn’t too big but is just enough for them and he wants it all. He wants everything with Luke. 

“The whole reason that I’m even going to Uni is so I can start on our future. And I know we haven’t talked all that much about it and I know I’m going to sound like I’m crazy or just trying to keep you with me at this point but you’re it, Luke. You’re my future -- well, maybe not after I tell you all this because, theoretically, you could---”

Ashton doesn’t get a chance to finish his muddled monologue, a set of all too familiar lips silencing his own, comforting hands encasing his cheeks. The initial surprise dissipates and he falls easily into the rhythm they’ve’ memorized though the kiss becomes short-lived when Luke pulls back. “You’re everything.” The sentiment doesn’t quite register; not until it’s repeated with a pair of solemn blue eyes on him. 

“You’re everything, Ash. That’s why I’m so fucking scared. You’re everything and when you leave I’m going to have nothing and that’s pathetic, I know but I guess that’s what you get when you’re 17 and in love, you know?” Luke laughs, a bashful noise stifled by a hand dragging down his face, nonetheless, the sound is a comfort. It’s not caustic nor cold; it’s Luke, warm and, if anything, a bit sheepish. Ashton can’t focus on that, however, his mind still trying to process Luke’s declaration. 

He’s right. They’re seventeen --- eighteen, for him --- and their love is melodramatic, all or nothing. They’d been together since Ashton was sixteen and they’d certainly grown up since then; hasty kisses in vacant corridors and pinkies interlocked under cafeteria tables a thing of the past. This new chapter just meant that they’d continue to grow, let their love mature into something a little less do or die.  
“I don’t want to be everything, Luke.” He tells him with a watery smile, lifting in his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. Luke, of course, looks completely lost which is why Ashton rushes to clarify. “You are so much me than me. I’m just a part of you --- like music or writing which is why you’re going to be fine. You’re not going to have nothing. Plus, I’m still here, yeah? 600 miles away --- give or take --- but I’m here for you. Whenever you need me. Just because I’m giving up the comfort of having you 5 minutes up the road doesn’t mean I’m giving up you. If I’m being honest, I’m trying to keep you for as long as I can because you’re the best goddamn thing to happen to me, Luke.” He’s out of breath like his words have just run a marathon and his throat is feeling the burn. But he did it. Finally came out with something eloquent enough to end this whole debacle or so he hopes. 

“Since when do you do speeches?”

The remark isn’t all that funny yet they both up in hysterics because they need to. They need to hear their laughter coalesce and see tears paint one another’s cheeks at the rom-com esque drama in the middle of a diner parking lot. 

One way another, he ends up nestled in Luke’s shoulder (a seventeen year old should not be this tall. when did he get this tall?), arms around the younger’s middle and the silence that envelops them no longer possesses a deadly edge. It feels like home, like nights spent squeezed in a twin bed (Luke swears he’ll get a full one day) and days spent in the tranquility of the pond behind Luke’s house. It feels right. 

“I love you. So much. And I’m sorry -- fuck, that was supposed to come out way sooner than this but still. I was a prick for much longer than I should have been and I really shouldn’t have been in the first place because what kind of person gets mad at his boyfriend for going to Uni?” Luke retracts at that, coming to grasp Ashton’s hands in both of his instead. 

“I guess it was because we never really had….problems? Two years and we’ve only hit speed bumps yet this, this felt like we were going straight down hill with no brakes. It freaked me out, brought out all these…..---insecurities? I wasn’t sure that I had. I figured once you were free of this town you’d be free of me too and that’s not an excuse, obviously so I’m sorry again and I’ll probably be saying that to you for the next like five weeks but.” 

He punctuates his rambling with an expectant lift of broad shoulders. Ashton squeezes his hands lightly, nodding in acknowledgement because his rationale matches the one Ashton assumed and it was valid. Luke didn’t get this way often, he had grown quite confident in himself throughout the years but this was a legitimate fear that Ashton too had, unfortunately, indulged in. Sure, Uni meant the thrill of a fresh start and that was an aspect he was looking forward to, however, this also meant leaving Luke behind and he could easily fall in love with someone new in Ashton’s absence. So, yeah, he understood. 

“I get it, Luke. Trust me, I do. I just wanted you to talk to me. There’s never anything you have to hide for me, insecurity or not, okay? And hey, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean any of that shit I said earlier. Well, the princess part, maybe, if we’re being honest.” They both allow themselves to laugh at that, Luke leaning forward to touch their foreheads together though his gaze was downcast. Ashton nudges Luke’s chin with a finger to get those baby blues on him, dizzy smile on his lips. “Please don’t make me do that ever again. I hate being mean to you. It’s like kicking a puppy.” 

“Don’t apologize, Ash. I deserved it. How’s your jaw, anyway?” The blonde leans back a bit to search for any remnant of a battle scar, lip jutting out when he discovers he couldn’t even leave a mark. 

“You’ve gotta work on that right hook, champ.”

“Hey, if I remember correctly, I almost broke your nose in freshman year. I wasn’t at my peak performance today.” His boyfriend so kindly points out before sliding his buzzing phone from his back pocket. “Speaking of which, I don’t think this baby is going anywhere for the time being so I told my dad to come pick us up,” Luke adds with a forlorn pout as he finishes up his text. Ashton’s about two seconds from kissing it away. 

“Does that mean we can make out in the back for the next twenty minutes?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me @lukesbitchingf on tumblr or @hauntedhalseys on twitter!!


End file.
